


Sunlight

by Kelenloth



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: ASL, Blind Character, Canon Compliant, Deaf Character, F/F, Going Blind, Romance if you squint, possibly a slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelenloth/pseuds/Kelenloth
Summary: “If you want to live, you have to look into the light.”They were the last words she had seen. Perhaps the last she would ever see.General Amaya had known since childhood never to look directly into the sun. Everyone knew that it could harm you, blind you even. But only now did she truly understand what all the old warnings meant.An exploration of Amaya's time as a prisoner of the Sunfire Elves.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 333





	1. Chapter 1

“If you want to live, you have to look into the light.”

Despite her fear, determination filled Amaya as she finally received some clarity on what was going on. It was a directive, and one she could accomplish. She grit her teeth and set her eyes back on the light, already painfully bright.

_ Don’t look away. Don’t look away. Don’t look away.  _ The words became a chant in her mind as she struggled to obey. 

The light was all encompassing. It burned, brighter, and brighter still. Brighter than the wall of molten fire which flowed over the breach. Brighter than the terrible blast which had sealed it. Brighter than the hottest forge, brighter than fresh fallen snow, brighter than the sun itself, and with as many burning colors.

General Amaya had always been confident in her eyesight. She had to be. It was her only window into the world. She had learned to trust herself implicitly, and could sense the smallest movement, watching an opponent in battle for any small mistake. She could follow rapid and complex language signs, read people’s lips, spot the change of shadows from behind her, and distinguish movement miles away from atop the battlements. Now, however, her vision played tricks. As she summoned all the strength within her to hold her gaze steady towards the overwhelming blaze, her vision swirled and narrowed, stretching out into the maddening whiteness like a tunnel, white and black and gold and blue. She trembled, her mouth falling open in a strained pant, but held her wide-eyed gaze. Tears filled her eyes and began to drip freely down her face. She had known since childhood never to look directly into the sun. Everyone knew that it would harm you, blind you even. But only now did General Amaya truly understand what all the old warnings meant. 

The light was tangible, imminent, transcendent. She could feel it on her skin and inside her head, burning, flowing, seeping in. It  _ hurt _ . Fire filled her lungs with every shaking breath, building pressure in her chest like a dam about to burst, and rifling through every dark crevice of her soul in search of purchase. Evaporating her from the inside out. Fear rushed through her in a wave, and the General let it. She leaned into the fear, into the light, and focused on breathing and holding fast through the pain. Let the light search her, purge her, torture her - whatever these elves were trying to do. She could take it. She would take it. Even if it tore her apart.

The light was constant, yet somehow, impossibly, increasing still. Amaya was sure it would kill her. And yet, the sun elf’s words repeated in her mind.  _ If you want to live, you have to look into the light _ . She wanted to live. And, it seemed, the elven warrior wanted her to live too. Amaya still did not understand what she was being subjected to, but she trusted the instruction she had been given. She would pass this test, or die trying. 

Just as she was sure she could not take any more, just before she passed out from the strain, the light faded. The pressure was released.

Amaya collapsed. Her eyes snapped shut as she fell forward as much as her bonds allowed. She could feel the ragged, trembling cry as it was ripped from her throat, feel the gasping, panting breaths which shook her whole frame as her head seemed to implode in on itself. She could taste the river of hot tears that flooded her face and glued her eyes closed, and could smell the sweat which now soaked her through.

And that was all: Touch, taste, and smell.

Strong hands gripped her by the arms and around her waist, hauling her to her feet. She bid her eyes to open, but they did not, could not. She could not stop the tears or command her face to obey. She did not fight as she was turned around and made to walk forward, still panting from the effort. 

The hands on her arms gripped tighter a moment, possibly in reaction to something she could neither hear nor see. They were her only contact in the terrible, maddening darkness which held her. She focused on those hands, and shifted her own, balling her hands into fists and relaxing them again, if only to prove that she still could.

As the terrible fear of dying by the sheer force of the light was washed away, dozens of smaller fears took its place. What had happened? Had she failed the test? Where were they taking her? The Queen had seemed very determined to see her dead.

After her ordeal, Amaya could not bring herself to care overmuch whether she was being marched back to the prison or straight to the executioner’s block. At least the latter would make the burning, searing, lingering pain come to an end. She would join her sister in the afterlife. She could be content with that. 

She did not know how long they walked. Time had lost meaning now, as had space. There were long halls and courtyards, inside and out, and several flights of stairs all going down. Her feet kept moving on instinct alone to stop her from falling on her face, until eventually she did. Strong hands caught her, and helped her down one last steep flight of stairs, before lowering her gently to the ground. The metal floor was accursedly warm to the touch, like so much of Lux Aurea, but it was still a much needed support. She did not go to her knees this time, but collapsed fully onto the ground, pressing her face against it in the hopes that the pressure might provide some relief.

Where were they? Back in the ring of fire, perhaps, although it seemed cooler here than her prison had. But there was no way to know.

Amaya was still unashamedly, unstoppably weeping when she felt her hands once more unbound.On instinct, she raised them to her face, curling up to protect herself. Elven hands stopped her. Two sets of hands now, strong and forceful. They pulled her hands down and forced her onto her back.

Panic was beginning to set in now as Amaya felt herself thus manipulated. She lashed out, tugging her wrists free and shooting a sharp elbow to her right. It connected, but seemed to make little impact. The hands found her again and forced her arms down to her sides. She struggled, but exhaustion had taken its toll. There was only so much she could do, unable to see her assailants.

Idly she wondered how executions were carried out in Lux Aurea. Burning, probably. She hoped it was something quicker. Beheading, perhaps, with one of those fire swords. It would be almost bloodless. General Amaya had given thought over the years to how she might die. There were a thousand ways she encountered every day. She had accepted them, and defied them. There was not one she might prefer over another, save for one that kept others safe. She did not regret her actions at the breach. If this was her end, she would face it with dignity. She stilled her struggle, taking a deep breath, and focused on steadying herself and reigning her wild thoughts and questions back in line. Observe. Interpret. Analyse. Act. She needed to master her fear. One breath at a time. Even if it might be her last. Perhaps it was better to not see death coming, but she still wished she could look it in the eye.

As she stilled, one of the elves’ hands moved to touch her face. It was the warrior from the breach, she was sure. Perhaps the other person holding her down was the translator. They would not be very useful now that Amaya could no longer see. She felt as the warrior pried open her right eye. This was not without effort, for her eyelid seemed to have a will of its own, twitching and straining to protect its charge, even against Amaya’s will. When it was finally open, however, Amaya’s vision did not clear or change. She saw nothing. Not black, not white, just pain.  _ Breathe _ , she commanded herself through the panic.  _ Just breathe.  _ The laborious process was repeated on her left with similar results and she felt as warm hands wiped away the slick tears which covered her face.

Her eyes still burned and stung, but she put all the effort she could into observing her surroundings in the only means left to her. She could feel that the two people holding her were talking, from the way they appeared to interact. Soon one of the pairs of hands was gone, and Amaya was alone - or so she assumed - with the warrior from the breach. She was the queen’s sister, Amaya had learned. Would she be the one to carry out her execution? Tentatively, Amaya raised her hands in two quick and simple signs.

_ What now? _

She knew that the warrior could not understand sign language, but hoped this was simple enough. After she said it, though, Amaya remembered that the elf had no way to respond.

Instead, she felt the warrior slowly press her hands back down to the floor. Amaya did not fight this time, just sighed heavily. Next however the elf took her face in both hands and pressed her thumbs gently to Amaya’s closed eyes. The slight pressure provided some relief, but the General’s brow knit. This was not how she expected to be treated on her way to her grave.

She could feel footsteps through the metal floor. Just one set. The translator, perhaps. It was maddening to not know. Not to know anything around her. Amaya had fought her whole life, fought with her whole being against helplessness, against limitation. But it didn’t matter now. The only thing that mattered was the cold which suddenly touched her face. Amaya gasped slightly but held still as what felt like a cool, wet cloth was draped over her eyes.

The General sighed in divine relief and let the cold water wash over her, mixing with salty tears and resting gentle pressure on her face. She sat still and let her mind clear. After a few blessed moments, one of her captors adjusted the cloth, flipping it over to make sure it stayed cool against her hot skin.

Hoping that it was indeed the translator who had joined them, Amaya tentatively raised her hands again. Hands found her wrists, but despite them she repeated:  _ What now? _

Despite her blindness, it was easy to forget that they had no mode of response. The General’s fists balled in frustration.

_ Your queen said the light would decide my fate.  _ She signed rapidly, and the two elves released her wrists to do so.  _ What is it?  _ Her face clinched in frustration again.  _ Death?  _ She signed.

She could tell from the way that the elf to her left, the translator, stiffened and gripped her shoulder that question had made it across, and its answer was insistent. Which hopefully meant it was ‘No’.

Perhaps she would just go through life deaf and blind, then. And a prisoner of the sun elves. It would make returning to Katolis more difficult.

Two hands found one of her own. Not gripping her wrist this time, but taking her hand in both of theirs. They opened her palm and pressed a fist into it, then wrapped her fingers around so she could tell that the thumb was under two knuckles and over the third. It felt different with only four fingers. Difficult. Was that ‘M’ or ‘N’? Next the hand opened up to form a circle, and pressed to her palm again:  _ No. _

Amaya felt a sigh fall over her, both at the message and that her captors had found a way to answer her. This translator was clever. Before she could think of another question, her hand was in the elf’s again.

_ You… pass… test. _

The message was hesitant, stumbling, and took what felt like a lifetime. Her translator was growing increasingly frustrated, and trying to find the shortest words possible.

Amaya sniffed back the last of her tears as the weight of this settled on her. If she had passed, what was failing?

The translator’s hand was in her own again, fingerspelling:  _ Eyes… heal. _

Now that was the first good news she had heard all day. In conjunction with it, she felt one of the elves replace the cloth on her face with another one, cool and comfortably heavy. This one smelled like it might have had herbs mixed on it.

Amaya took a moment to take all of this in, before signing again.  _ Why are you helping me? _

This took a moment to answer, but Amaya felt the warrior’s hand on her shoulder, and the translator’s hand pressed into hers once again.  _ Saved… my… life.  _ There was a pause.  _ Have… honor. _

It was not what Amaya expected, but she turned her head towards where she hoped the warrior sat, as if that would do anything. She imagined what her face would look like. A face she had stared down so many times now in battle. A face she had seen enraged in monsterous fire. And now she spoke of honor? This elf had no reason to want her anything but dead. 

Nevertheless, Amaya gave a nod. If it was honor that saved her life, she would not be out done now.  _ Thank you _ she signed, and thought a moment.  _ What is your name? _

This time, Amaya did not feel the translator’s hand in her own. Rather, they held her hand up in one of theirs, and with the other led the elven warrior in the laborious process of both learning and communicating the letters of her own name. The first was funny, as Amaya felt the tip of the warrior’s smallest finger draw a curved line down her palm. J. It tickled, and she gave a small, involuntary laugh. Just a puff of air through her nose really. But it felt odd to laugh here, a prisoner of the sunfire elves. The rest of the elf’s name was easier to parse.  _ Janai _ . Or quite possibly Jamai. Four fingers did not suit the language.

To test, Amaya signed it back.  _ Janai _ , she said, and was not corrected.  _ You?  _ She gestured as well as she could towards the other elf, her interpreter.  _ Kazi  _ came the reply, and Amaya signed it back. _ Thank you, Kazi.  _ It felt odd to be indebted to an elf. Wrong, even. But she was grateful.

_ I am Amaya, _ she told them next.

It was not how she had expected this interrogation to go. And this was the first actual piece of information she had provided. So much had changed since that morning, however. The time for insults and insolence had long past, and she could no longer be so proud as to refuse help. When she felt her head lifted slightly, and another strip of cloth wrap over her eyes, this time wrapping completely around her head, a blindfold tied securely to keep the other cool cloths in place, she did not put up any resistance, but relaxed.

Kazi’s hand found hers again.  _ Rest, Amaya _ , they said. Amaya nodded. However the next thing she knew a strong arm was wrapped behind her shoulders and she was forcibly pulled up. She swayed for a moment in a sitting position, leaning on the woman holding her up. Janai was so warm to the touch. Were all sunfire elves like this?

The blindfold stayed in place and Janai took her wrists again, this time guiding them out until - Amaya felt as she knocked something over. It was cold and metal. A few moments later it had clearly been righted and placed in her right hand. And another, heavier something in her left. A glass, and a pitcher of water, she could tell by its weight.

Without being able to see, Amaya still did not hesitate to pour herself a glass. She only missed the mouth of the goblet a little bit, which was soon corrected. The water was cool and clear, a divine boon which had reached her lips. The Trial of the Light - or whatever they might call it - had taken much from her, including what felt like all of the water in her body, in the form of sweat and tears. As soon as she had drained the goblet once, Janai helped her to fill it again. Amaya drank with abandon.

If she had been offered a drink mere hours ago, Amaya would have refused. She would have called it poison, or thought up some other insolence. Now however she did not question or hesitate.

She felt Janai’s hand on her shoulder as the warrior stood to her feet. Beside her Kazi pressed a few more signs into her hand, before they rose as well and walked away, leaving Amaya alone.  _ Do not rub eyes _ , Kazi had told her.  _ Will return soon.  _

Amaya set aside the cup and pitcher they had left with her, and laid herself back against the metal floor. They had left her unbound. Perhaps they thought that while she was healing she posed no threat to them. Or perhaps she really had passed some test, and gained their trust. If the elves had made such a mistake this morning, Amaya would have been halfway back to Katolis by now, wall of fire or no. But for now maybe she should, as Kazi said, rest, and heal. And see what Lux Aurea had to offer.

She had initially thought that being captured might offer her a chance to gather information on her enemy: To gauge the elves’ forces and perhaps note an impending attack. But as she was brought from the breach to Lux Aurea she had seen no evidence of preparations for war. Only defences. It had shocked her. Coming into Xadia, beyond the barren lands that the dragons guarded so greedily, the lands which had claimed her sister’s life. It was a lot to take in. Beyond the war torn border was a land of lush green forests and farmland, tended to by humble, everyday people. Just like home.

Amaya had spent her entire life working to protect Katolis and her King. And most of that time she had been working to protect her from Xadia. Elves, she knew better than most, were extremely capable foes: Strong, fast, and armed with powerful magic. And that was only half of what made them dangerous. Elves were ruthless, and proud. Lux Aurea and her haughty queen had put all of that and more on display. Behind blind eyes, Amaya tried to remember, to replay what happened. The queen had ordered her death almost at once. It was what Ayama expected. She was a prisoner of war, and nothing would make her betray her people. The Queen hadn’t been concerned with information, though. Why? If the tables were turned, and Katolis had captured an elven intruder… They probably would have been interrogated by Lord Viren, she thought with disgust. But they would not have been thrown aside. Katolis valued wisdom, and information. And Amaya did as well. It was one of the hardest parts about manning the border: Never having enough information about her enemy. It was why they had built the outpost which started this whole ordeal. 

When the elven warrior - Janai, she corrected - when Janai had first questioned her, she had asked for information. About Katolis’ plans, and about the outpost on the Xadian side of the border. The elves could never know it, but Katolis had held that outpost for several years. As for what they were planning - only to be a step ahead, and defend the border. The Xadian side of the border was guarded by dragons, and so the human side must at times be guarded by subterfuge as well as walls. And as for the bomb, well, that was to prevent an impending attack. Which, as it turns out, wasn’t coming after all. 

The Queen didn’t care about any of that, though. She didn’t seem to care about the humans or their army at all. Not even on Janai’s advice. Did the monarch really listen to her own general - or knight or whatever Janai was - so poorly? Were they not prepared for war? Or were their defenses so ironclad, or their estimation of humans so base, that the ruler sat in comfortable assurance in her golden palace? Amaya traced absent-minded patterns on the floor with her fingers, and wondered how much of her life had been spent on guard against an enemy who it turned out was rather content to let her be.

Then there was the matter of why, after the Queen’s direct command, Amaya was not dead. Janai must have said something to her sister, but Amaya did not know what. Had she seen what the queen said right? That Janai thought Amaya was ‘special’? Amaya moved her lips in imitation, and tried to remember. It had been difficult to look at the queen, so far away and backed by the sun. The entire space seemed designed to make it so. Janai had told her that her intervention was because she saved her life. Because she had honor. Amaya wondered how much of a surprise that had been. A human with honor. Probably just as much of a surprise as an elf with empathy, she thought.

Honor, Janai had said. It was a funny word, honor. Honor was something earned, and yet something bestowed. It was something enacted, and yet something possessed. The honor of an ally was something to hang your trust upon. But the honor of a foe? It was in Amaya’s experience a dangerous path. Trust the elves to act honorably, and they might as well abandon the breach and merely trust that the elves would send no more - no more assassins in the night, no more kidnappers. And yet, how else could she say Janai had acted but honorably? Janai honored Amaya - honored her with a second chance. She had defended her, in defiance of her queen. And not, it seemed, for want of information. 

Janai was straightforward. A soldier, like Amaya. This turn of face - providing her water, leaving her unbound, treating her wounds even. It was not a trick. If Janai wanted to interrogate her, then she had just missed the golden opportunity. Even Amaya did not know what might have spilled from her had she been pressed to answer just after such an ordeal - if she even could. No, Janai’s concern and her respect were in earnest. And it was not in vain. Despite her offensive behavior towards her captors, Amaya’s life was founded on honor. She was honored to defend Katolis because she believed it was an honorable cause: An honorable nation with an honorable king. She honored her soldiers - and honored their families by making sure those soldiers came back home alive. And she honored her enemies, by fighting with all she had and never underestimating them.

She had honored Janai by saving her life, the life of a woman who had at least three times attempted to take her own. But that had been in battle. It was honorable to fight, and even to fall in battle. There was no honor in a warrior falling from a cliff. But there was even less in letting them fall. She did not regret her choice. She wouldn’t have regretted it even if execution was what she received in return. She had done all she could to secure Katolis. She had closed the breach, and accepted the consequence. Saving Janai has been the right choice, in the aftermath. And besides, Sarai would have been proud.

Oh Sarai. She had been ever-present in Amaya’s mind today. What would Sarai have done, in her place? She probably could have negotiated a new peace treaty by now. Talked some sense into the elven queen. She definitely would have done as Amaya had at the breach and taken sole responsibility for lighting the blast. And she would have saved Janai, too. If Sarai was here, she would have never gotten into this mess. But at least Amaya could honor her. By keeping up her courage, her spirits, and her strength. And by keeping an open mind, even to an enemy. Sarai’s compassion and her steadfast moral compass had been the guiding light of Katolis, her army, and her king. And death could not stop that light. Not while Amaya still drew breath.

What would Sarai have done? Sarai would have taken every setback as an opportunity, every challenge as a gift, and every surprise as a chance to learn more, love more, help more. So that was what Amaya would do. She would make the most of this second chance at life Janai had secured for her. She would open her mind, as Sarai would say, and learn all she could. She had spent the last decade learning her enemy. How to fight them, how to defend her home. Now the elves had brought her to the very heart of their civilization. And so it was time to learn her long time enemy, not only in mind and in form but at heart.

Not many prisoners hope for their interrogator’s swift return. But Amaya felt herself counting the minutes she was alone. Until at last, her counting led her into a deep and much needed sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Amaya woke to the feel of vibrations in the floor. Footsteps, and getting closer. It was as common a start to her morning as she could expect, an instinct drilled into her by years of service in Katolis’ army. What was not common was the spike of panic which shot through her as she attempted to open her eyes and found nothing there. 

Amaya groaned and pushed herself up to a sitting position, remembering now where she was. It was warm here, in her prison. And those probably weren’t Gren’s footsteps waking her up. She rubbed her aching head and ran her fingers over the blindfold which was still in place. It, like every piece of her clothing, was now soaked through with sweat. She wondered if there was any water left in the pitcher which had been left with her, but did not want to be found fumbling around on the ground for it by the elf whose footsteps were still descending the stairs.

A moment later a four-fingered hand found her shoulder, and Amaya stiffened. It took all her focus to keep from grabbing the hand and using it to pull her assailant to the ground. Instead, as she raised her head towards the elf, as if she could see them, she felt another hand take her own, guiding it up until she again found something metal in her hands. She took it, and the rest of her waking senses finally kicked in. Food. She didn’t know what it was, but It smelled amazing.

The elf sat down next to her, and Amaya wondered if it was Janai or Kazi. She did not imagine any of the other elves would be as gentle or considerate as to make sure their deaf and blind prisoner was able to eat.

She brought the bowl down into her lap, and felt until she found a spoon in it. It was not like any soup she had ever smelled before. But she had never eaten anything of Xadian origin.

The first mouthful was eyebrow raising, at least. The soup was hot, in more ways than one, with an earthy flavor she could not identify. It was good. She had not realized how long it had been since she had eaten, and took to it rather more ravenously than she wished to let on.

All those stories about elves drinking human blood seemed rather foolish now. She didn’t know if she had ever actually believed them. But tales like that were always in the back of your mind, growing up on the dangerous borderlands. Xadia was a land full of monsters. Monsters who apparently made very good vegetable soup.

She wondered if the elf beside her was talking. Or waiting on something. She looked back to them as best she could with sightless eyes.  _ Kazi?  _ She signed, holding the bowl now with just one hand. There was no response.  _ Janai?  _ She guessed next, and held out her hand to the elf.

_ Janai _ she felt the letters press hesitatingly into her palm. Kazi must have taught her a thing or two.

_ Thank you _ , Amaya signed, then stopped. Janai probably hadn’t known what that meant.  _ T-h-a-n-k y-o-u  _ she fingerspelled, hoping that Janai had perhaps learned the alphabet first, as most people did.

She was proven right as Janai took her hand again, and pressed warm fingers into it.  _ I… bring… medic _ her message was painfully slow, but Amaya thought she understood. She touched her blindfold and nodded yes, hoping this would be enough. She felt Janai depart then, and returned to her soup.

Two sets of footsteps returned some minutes later, when Amaya had finished her meal. She wondered which meal it was, and at what time of day.

The footsteps stopped at the bottom of the stairs, probably because of the wall of flames which doubtlessly still surrounded her. Then they stopped again once the elves were through. They were behind her, but Amaya sat patiently and did not bother turning towards what she could not see. That is until one set of footsteps sped up, rapidly closing the distance between them, and she felt unseen hands seize her again. 

They grabbed at her shoulders and her wrist, pushing her down and drawing her arm sharply behind her. Amaya’s reaction was pure instinct, as she used what leverage she had to lean forward further and shift her legs back, pressing herself up on one knee and swinging the other leg behind her in a sharp arc. The hands released her as her assailant hit the ground in a satisfying thud. 

Amaya was on her feet in half a second, hands held before her. She did not want to fight in this condition but she would, with tooth and nail.

The floor beneath her trembled still with a confusion of footfalls, but it was hard to tell what was happening. Amaya calmed her breathing and moved her hands into a more submissive gesture. Were these two elves fighting? She took a tentative step back, but could feel the heat of the wall of flame behind her. There was nowhere to go. 

Whatever was happening, the movement in the room stilled and someone approached her again, more cautiously this time. She held her hands up, palm out, and felt as Janai took one of them. 

_ She… wished… you… bound.  _ Ah. Well, she should have just said something. Amaya nodded and offered her wrists without question. Janai hesitated, but placed the metal cuffs back on her wrists, before her, this time. It would make it easier to sign. With this, Amaya took all of the dignity she could, stepped back into the middle of the space, and sat down, awaiting this rather upset physician’s attention.

She could not tell, but guessed that the two may still be exchanging rather loud or at least rather heated words. Janai must have won, because it was with much gentler hands that the other elf next approached and undid her blindfold. Amaya complied as much as she was able as the physician leaned her head back and inspected her eyes. She could still see nothing. 

Yet more footsteps flowed quickly down the stairs towards them. How many physicians did Janai need? She felt the warrior’s hand find her own.  _ Kazi,  _ she explained. 

Amaya smiled and lifted her bound hands to wave towards the incoming elf, and wondered at the genuine happiness she felt at their approach. How quickly her enemies became welcome… well, not sights for sore eyes, but something close.

The medic released her head then, and apparently pronounced a diagnosis. Janai’s hand pressed her down by the shoulder, and Amaya laid down to again receive a cool compress bandage and blindfold. She wondered if there might be some Xadian magic in this one, to keep it cold. In addition to this, the medic applied what must have been medicine. A few drops of liquid in each eye, as well as a salve under the bandages. It felt wrong, feeling her eyes manipulated without being able to see, and the medicine stung. She once more focused on breathing, and did her best not to flinch.

A hand found hers.  _ Three days _ . It was Kazi, Amaya could tell from the speed at which they spelled. Behind her blindfold, Amaya’s blind eyes went wide at the news. From utter blindness to sight in just three days. Xadian medics were good. Or perhaps just very used to healing the injuries of… whatever that light was.

_ Thank you  _ she signed to the physician, assuming Kazi would translate. The elf’s only perceivable response was to walk stiffly away, and Amaya sat in silence with Janai and Kazi once more. She sat up, and waited a moment to test if her captors would leave her again. Then, at length,  _ What now?  _ She signed yet again. It was more difficult to sign while bound, but she managed.

The lack of response was telling enough.  _ You heal _ , Kazi eventually spelled out for her. Amaya made a face. Patience, she reminded herself, was a virtue.

Perhaps a more direct question would garner a more direct answer.  _ What of your queen? _ Amaya couldn’t escape the feeling that if anyone was being interrogated, it was not her.

_ She will not defy the light _ . Kazi told her. Whether they were translating for Janai or not was difficult to tell, but she assumed they were. It was not as revealing an answer as could be wished. Her life was not in any immediate danger, that’s what Janai had meant. So what did that make her, a prisoner of war? Were they at war? It was something she had been made to drastically reconsider of late. Katolis and Xadia did not have a history of taking prisoners. Was she being held hostage? For ransom? She wondered how long it would be before anyone in Katolis even heard about it if she was. At least Prince Ezran - King Ezran - had returned. Never had news from the capitol given her such joy. Now, however, she feared the young King would do something foolish if he heard that his aunt was a captive of the elves.

If one of her commanders had been captured, Amaya would have begged the King to authorize a stealth mission to retrieve them, and she would have led the expedition herself, even if it would have sparked a war. Now, however, she prayed that the young king was wiser than she. She had faith that her nephew would make a wise and generous ruler - he was the image of his father in face, but the image of his mother in spirit. But he was, she had no doubt, shaken by trauma - by losing his father, by assuming the crown, by himself being kidnapped by that… Amaya stopped herself from using the word ‘monster’. That moonshadow elf. Besides his brother Callum - who apparently had not returned with the new King - Amaya was the only family Ezran had left. It would take a very strong king indeed to resist pursuing her rescue, consequences be damned. But even given her own capture, and the murder of the King, Amaya knew that Katolis must not go to war. Now that she had seen the defenses of the Xadian border and around Lux Aurea, Amaya knew what a war with Xadia would cost, and she was more glad than ever that she had sealed the breach, if not to keep Xadia out, then at least to keep Katolis in. Either side, she was sure, could find a way around the barrier. But it would take time. Time for heads to cool. Time for her to heal.

Kazi’s hand touched her own, and Amaya started. She had been so lost in thought she had all but forgotten the two unseen elves who sat with her. Were they waiting on her response? She did not have one. At length, the elven hand pressed into hers again.  _ Rest _ . Kazi told her. Amaya nodded, and her captors stood to leave.

They had not gone three paces before one of them returned. It was Janai, she could tell, although she wasn’t entirely sure how. Perhaps the Golden Knight was warmer than the young scholar, or perhaps she had a longer gait. Regardless, Amaya’s hands, still bound, were raised and the manacles quickly removed.

She left then without comment or question.

Interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

If the sunfire elves were going to leave her unbound, Amaya was going to make the most of it. And if they were going to give her such a wonderfully spacious cell - surrounded on all sides by fire or no - then she was going to go about her day as well as she could, without company and without the use of her eyes. There were many valuable things a warrior could do with her freetime. Amaya started with push ups, and went from there. Next came sit ups and then some jumping exercises, and all manner of stretches to accompany them. When she grew too restless to stay in one space she took a rather dangerous walk around the perimeter of her cell, walking as close to the flames as she dared and judging her safety by the heat of the walls. The walk was followed by running several laps until she lost count and was breathing heavily. Then she measured the space in paces, judging it’s diameter and checking a few more times. At one point she almost tripped, because although they had taken the bowl of soup they had brought, Kazi and Janai had left the cup and the water jug behind. She took several thankful drinks, and considered what should come next.

If she had her armor she would have polished it. If she was back at the keep she would have sorted through her messenger ravens’ latest news and written replies - provided she could have seen them, anyway. For now she had nothing but the sweat-soaked clothes on her back, and space, and time. And a goblet and jug of water. It was certainly not nothing.

Drills, she decided, and took the now empty glass in her hands. It had a stem, a bit shorter than such a cup might be in Katolis - made for slim, four-fingered hands. But it would do. She tested her grip on it, and imagined it was the hilt of a sword. Imagination was not difficult without sight. It reminded her of all the time training young soldiers, like Prince Callum, to always treat a training sword like a real blade, even if it was made of wood. She took careful paces to find the center of the room again, and raised her cup-turned-sword to the first position.

Amaya had certain drills she practiced every day, and others she ran through only when she set aside time. Still others she had not practised independently for years, so well ingrained were their lessons. She ran through all of them today, from basic blocks to complex faints and disarming moves. With her imagined sword and her even more imaginary shield she fought the air with precise, disciplined cuts and blows. If she was going to sweat, locked in this furnace of a prison, she would at least earn it today.

There were a few times that her exercises brought her frightfully close to the flames - which appeared as sudden walls of heat near her hands, her shoulders, her feet. But she managed to keep herself unscathed. 

It was a complex dance, but one Amaya knew not only by heart but by muscle, ligament, and bone. Her mind cleared utterly as she followed the age old motions, counting one, two, three, four, and on. It was not long before she had almost forgotten her blinded eyes, or the weight of her imprisonment, or her need to return to Katolis.

Amaya’s world was built on motions. On signs and expressions, on body language. And here in her exercises was motion in its purest form. Motion for motion’s sake, perfected and ordered. It was something she tried to drill into her soldiers but few seemed to understand. A shared appreciation of the art and beauty of motion was what first led her to appoint Commander Gren as her assistant and her voice. She wondered where he was now, and hoped that he was safe. Safe, and neither planning nor petitioning the king for any reckless undertaking into Xadia to retrieve her. 

Worry made General Amaya’s motions falter, and she chided herself, stopping to start her current drill over again, and cleared her mind with several deep breaths. The air was oppressively warm here. It reminded her of nothing more than of patrolling along the breach.

She could not help but think back to the last time she was there, and all the times before. Despite the ever constant threat of Xadian invasion, they had seen surprisingly little actual combat at the breach. Until Janai arrived, that was. As Amaya resumed her drills she thought back to her martial encounters with the elf. The Golden Knight, that’s what she had seen other elves call Janai. She was an impressive fighter. Perhaps, without the aid of her magical sword, Amaya could have beat her. But loath as she was to admit it, victory even in a fair fight with Janai was no sure thing. In her mind Amaya recalled the duels they had fought, three in number now, each with an unsatisfactory outcome. Her body followed, rehearsing the moves she had made and had been forced into, analysing the fight.

So lost was she in thought that when her motion was interrupted, Amaya felt a startled noise leave her throat. Her entire body reeled and jumped back as her sword - that was, the goblet in her hands - met an unknown resistance, and bounced off. Tired and startled, she stood back for two long panting breaths wondering what had occurred. There was no wall in this cell, and the fire barrier would not have deflected her. That meant something, or someone, had joined her in the dark. Gritting her teeth in resolve, Amaya dove back towards whatever it was with a probing thrust. Her goblet was knocked away this time, parried. So it was not a wall or an object she had struck, it was a person.

With her heart pounding in her ears it was impossible to sense the small vibrations in the floor that she had begun to rely on to sense people entering her prison. But it would not, could not not be anyone other than Janai. Amaya smiled, and dove again.

The cup in her hand had a significantly shorter reach than the blade to which she was accustomed, and the shield on her arm was a fiction. It did not take long for the drinking vessel to reach the floor and their spar turned hand-to-hand. Amaya swung blindly, and a hand caught her fist. Her smile widened as this one touch gave her an idea of Janai’s position, and she swung back fast, drawing Janai in and turning in a close circle to strike high with the elbow of her other arm. Janai ducked and released her, but did not strike back. Playing a defensive game, then.

Amaya turned, but without being able to see she could neither anticipate her opponent nor aim her blows. She needed another point of contact, even if it was a strike to the face. She danced back and beckoned Janai on, just as she had when they first fought. She felt powerful footfalls nearing, one, two, Amaya weaved left, but not far enough. The elf had thrown neither the powerful, raging haymaker nor strong forward kick which Amaya had seen before when they had each been disarmed, but rather had pressed close, forcing a grapple. The move surrendered most of the advantage Janai had against her blind and blindfolded foe, as well as eliminating the space needed for a powerful blow. It was entirely unlike anything Amaya had seen her attempt on the field, but it brought the smile back to Amaya’s face. Janai fought with nothing if not with honor.

They were locked in a wrestling hold now, Janai’s strong hands on her shoulders, pulling her down. Before she could be pinned, Amaya slipped her arms between her opponent’s, wrapping her hands around the back of Janai’s neck and forcing her elbows up. She had the leverage she needed to stay on her feet, but Janai was tall, and it was difficult to gain control. She took a step back and tried to pull Janai with her, but the wall of flame was there. She had lost track of it, and pulled her foot back just in time to avoid being burned. Janai took the falter for it’s worth, and soon Amaya found herself pulled around swiftly and thrown through the air and to the ground.

She scrambled to her feet, but Janai was faster, forcing her arm into a pin. Amaya bucked, and felt the back of her skull come into sharp contact with what must have been Janai’s nose, for the elf released her in surprise. Once on her feet, Amaya wasted no time in diving forward again to catch the elf by the shoulders. Or as close to the shoulders as she could, being blind. But Janai was more than ready, and after a contact so brief as to be dismissed, Amaya was on the ground again, this time with the full force of Janai’s strength pinning and pressing her to the floor. 

With the force of this blow, fear entered Amaya’s mind for the first time. She was, after all, a prisoner here, and had more than abused the freedom granted her. She had attacked her captor. Completely unable to read Janai’s expression, it was impossible to tell the elf’s thoughts. Maybe this had never been a game or a sparring match at all. A blow to the nose like that would have hurt, too. For a moment, she fully expected to feel the heat of angry fire rise in Janai’s palms. 

Securely pinned and now worried of consequences, Amaya gave up her struggle and tapped twice on the ground. Janai released her at once, and Amaya sighed in relief. She was slow in getting up, possibly too slow, waiting to see if the elf would insist on binding her hands again. She lifted her wrists together in surrender, in case any further token of good will was required. 

For a long moment, nothing happened. Amaya focused again on calming her heavy breathing, and recovering from her day of exercise. At last, Janai took her hand. Letters pressed into her palm, hesitant and ill-remembered, spelling words as short and abbreviated as they could.

_ Good… fight… for… blind.  _ She could almost feel the terrible smirk which Janai was doubtlessly sporting. Amaya nodded her thanks.

_ Good _ Amaya spelled out, slowly, and then showed Janai the sign for  _ good _ . She did the same for  _ fight _ , gesturing back to Janai with a smile. She could not see if the elf copied her motion or understood, but she repeated the motions again, just in case. Janai, she thought, had taken a seat next to her. It was, as always, hard to tell. Amaya continued her teaching, though, with the word ‘blind’, and a few others, including ‘deaf’, ‘warrior’, ‘human’, and ‘elf’. Learning these signs would do them no good with Amaya in her current state, but if the elf doctor was as good as she said, they could be of use soon. Janai’s patience already spoke much. Eventually, her hand found Amaya’s shoulder, and the General stopped.

_ Food _ Janai spelled out. Amaya nodded, and showed her the sign, but Janai took her hand again. Amaya chuckled silently as she realised her mistake when instead of words, another bowl of soup was pressed into her hands, along with a portion of bread. She signed back her thanks.

Janai stayed with her while Amaya ate. Silence had never seemed awkward to the human General before, but now she wished for nothing more than she wished to see the elf’s face. To see what she was thinking. She hurried her meal, and when she was done set the bowl down, and extended a hand, palm up, towards her captor. An invitation for dialogue. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ she would have signed had she thought Janai would understand.

It took a moment, but Janai took her hand. Her question was as always more hesitant and misspelled than either of them would have preferred, and took what felt like an age to ask. Amaya found herself wondering how it could be that she now sat, smiling, with this elven knight holding her hand. 

Her reprieve was shaken somewhat as she finally parsed Janai’s lengthy question.  _ Should I be afraid for my guards?  _ It was impossible to tell if genuine threat or a playful barb was meant by the insinuation that Amaya might easily, blind as she was, breach the wall of fire around her, storm up the steps of the prison, and overpower her guards. A shadow overcast Amaya’s face as she considered her response.

They said it was a warrior’s duty when captured to make every effort towards escape. Anything less would be to give up hope, to give up the fight against the enemy. As a prisoner of war her job would be to cost the enemy as much resources as possible, while making her way back to the front lines and report for duty once more. But then again, she was not, it seemed, a prisoner of war. Just a prisoner.

Amaya’s hesitation must have worried her host, for she felt Janai’s hand on hers again. Amaya took a deep breath and made up her mind.

_ I swear -  _ with each word she first signed and then spelled;  _ I (I) swear (s-w-e-a-r).  _ It took time, but time was not something Amaya was short on.  _ I swear I will attempt no escape  _ her face contorted uncomfortably and she added the caveat:  _ for the next three days _ . Janai’s hand found her shoulder now, as Amaya completed her oath.  _ On my honor, this I swear. _

She held her right fist to her chest in a salute, and Janai’s hand left her shoulder to most likely copy the motion. After a solemn moment Amaya held her own hand out for Janai to spell into again.

Janai’s hand stopped and started several times in her own, as if the elf had much to say but did not or could not find the words and symbols to say it. Janai’s hands were warm, and Amaya waited patiently. After a few failed attempts, however, Janai’s hand balled in frustration. 

_ It’s OK,  _ Amaya told her, when she had delayed almost a full minute. Signing was hard, and Janai had been doing very well up to this point for someone brand new to the language. Amaya wasn’t even sure that she had followed the oath she had made. She could feel the heavy sigh Janai took as the elf’s hand shifted on her own. Finally, Amaya came to her rescue. She put her hands up in a motion for Janai to stop, sat up straight, and then held out her hand, not palm up, but as she would to anyone.

Janai got the message, and met Amaya in a firm handshake. The universal communication of body language. Amaya was glad to see that elven culture had at least a few things in common with her own.

After this was concluded, Janai clearly still did not know what to do. She sat with Amaya a while longer, a hand always hovering near to let the human general know she was still there. But she never found the words she was searching for. At last she stood stiffly and suddenly, and left. 

Huh. Amaya smiled. She couldn’t see the elven warrior, but it was hard to match up the intense confidence she had faced on the breach with the awkward hesitation she had just encountered. It was, for lack of a better word, cute. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this, and thank you for all kudos and comments!


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning - or what she could only assume was the next morning, it might have been the middle of the night - whenever it was that Amaya awoke, she woke up feeling like she was dying. Pain laced through her head and her throat felt too dry to even cough. It was all the worst parts of a hangover, without the benefit of drinking the night before. Her skin felt taut, and worryingly dry. It really was an oven in here. She needed water. Every part of her knew and insisted on this.

At the Breach, she and her soldiers kept strict water rations - the only part of the world where a ration was the minimum you were required to drink, instead of the maximum allowed. She knew the dangers of dehydration and heat stroke all too well. 

What to do. That was the question. It was amazing how quickly the simple, everyday needs of life and survival became hardships far from home. Far from home, and captured by her enemies, that was. She tried to open her eyes and look around for the water pitcher she had the day before. Far from home, captured by her enemies, and blind. Right.

Even if the pitcher was still here, and even if there was somehow water left in it, she would not know without feeling her way through every square foot of her cell. There was no dignity in it, but she had little choice. As she pressed herself to her hands and knees, Amaya was merely thankful that the elves had let her remain unbound.

It took not a short time fumbling around on the hot, metallic floor before Amaya found anything to interrupt the featureless void she dragged herself through. But eventually, far too near the wall of fire for comfort, her hands once again found not the pitcher, but the goblet which had been her sword. Her hands felt weak against it now, as she drug herself back to the center of the space as best she could - as far from the flames as possible.

There was nothing for it, really. She needed help. She could either wait for her captors to return or do something to catch their attention, and request aid. Neither option sounded pleasant.

At first, Amaya attempted to go back to sleep. Her pride restrained her from action, and her stubbornness sustained her in this for the first few...hours? Minutes? It was impossible to tell. But sleep did not claim her, even in the miserable dark.

By the time Amaya gave up, she was sure it had to be daytime by now. It had surely been hours, and she found now that she could not swallow. Perhaps it had been even longer than she realized. Had an entire day gone by, without her knowing? But no, Janai would have been back by then. Wouldn’t she? She would not leave Amaya to starve.

As fear began to encroach upon the back of her mind, feeding on her discomfort, Amaya was finally brought to act. She sat up and swayed for a moment, now dizzy in the heat. The metal goblet was still in her hand. She brought it up and down, hitting metal to metal on the floor. There was no way of telling how loud the impact was, but she could only hope that the guards could hear her, far up at the top of the stairs. She hit the flood again, feeling the vibrations. There was stone underneath metal, she was sure. It did not feel like it was very loud. She struck again, and wondered if she might be damaging the goblet. But at this point she was committed. She hit metal on metal again, and hoped it made noise. 

Her effort soon began to feel rather childish, but her need was real. Eventually - she did not know how many minutes or hours later - she paused when she thought she finally sensed footsteps. They were not coming down the stairs, but already arrived, close at hand. Perhaps it was Janai or Kazi, or perhaps one of the guards. Amaya quickly made the sign for water, and spelled it out too. She mimed drinking for good measure, with the goblet in her hands.

Pain; sudden, sharp, and jarring whipped across Amaya’s face and rang through her skull. It took a moment to realize what had even happened as her entire body recoiled from the unseen attack. A stinging, red, four fingered handprint would be on her jaw now, Amaya knew, as the force of the backhanded strike sank in. She sat paralyzed as the metal goblet was ripped from her hands. If the elf before her said anything, she could not tell.

In her heart the fire of rage kindled, but it was nothing to the flames outside. Deep breaths. Don’t do anything rash. This elf can only make your situation worse. And attacking them would only break your oath or put you back in chains. 

Amaya forced herself to remain still and unresponsive until she felt the floor tremble again, as the elven footsteps retreated. If she had any tears left in her they might have found their way to the corners of her eyes now, but they did not, for she had none to spare. How stupid had she been, letting her guard down? She was a captive of the sunfire elves. The very people she had spent her whole life defending Katolis against. The shock troops of Xadia. And they were no more forgiving than their queen. 

She did not know what game Janai was playing, but she could not assume that the trust of the Knight secured the trust of her troops. She was still a captive in enemy lands. And she was still in need of a drink. Amaya did her best to settle again on the floor and wait. 

Time meant nothing here. Amaya’s mind wandered. How did the elves fuel these unending flames that corralled and tortured her? Was it magic? Fuel? What was it costing them to hold her here, if anything. And again, why wasn’t she dead? What did they use these massive rooms ringed with fire for when they didn’t have human captives? And why was it so big? They could probably hold an entire captive battalion here, if they wanted. The thought made Amaya’s heart sink. Thank the gods, she was the only one. 

Had they turned the heat up? Was this part of an interrogation? How long had it been, now? Was it day, or night? Where was Janai? That was the question Amaya kept coming back to. The Golden Knight had - somehow - become Amaya’s greatest aide and defender. Although the gods only knew why. She could not shake the feeling that Janai would not allow this to happen. Even though she had no proof that the hand which struck her had not been Janai’s own. It wasn’t though, was it? The assault had hurt, but she imagined that if Janai wanted to hurt her, it would have hurt a lot more.

At length, through Amaya’s haze of thoughts and intermittent attempts to find sleep once more, she realized that someone else was coming down the stairs. More than one someone. This time, she decided not to move or respond until she knew who it was. She sat, cross legged as if meditating, and waited. 

There were two of them. At least two, anyway. Possibly three. This did not bode well. One elf stood before her and another came beside. As they came closer fear sparked in Amaya’s heart that whatever elf had struck her had come back, and brought friends. Unbidden, her breathing hitched as she felt an elven hand on her arm.

The elf stopped, and suddenly another hand was on her face. Amaya could not help but jerk back, but the elf was persistent, and caught hold of her chin. They turned her face left, the way it had been forced by the backhanded slap before. Amaya held still, as the other elf pulled at her hand.

_ What happened?  _ It was Kazi. Which probably meant the hand holding her face was Janai. Amaya sighed, tension draining like a wave. 

_ Water. Please.  _ She signed in response.

_ Who hit you?  _

_ I don’t know. Please. Water.  _

Janai released her face and stomped angrily away.

_ She will bring water. _ Kazi let her know. Amaya nodded.  _ Are you okay? _

Amaya nodded again, but had a feeling they both knew it was a lie.  _ How long?  _ She asked.

_ Two days, since I was here.  _ Amaya wondered if Kazi knew that Janai had been to see her since. Two days since the medic visited. Perhaps one day, or a day and a half since she has sparred with Janai. Had two nights really passed?

_ Has no one brought food? _ Kazi’s hands were comforting, and their concern genuine. 

_ Janai.  _ Amaya answered. 

_ She was away all yesterday. Has no one else? _

Amaya merely shook her head in response. She pulled on her collar and tried to swallow. The fabric was no longer sweat-soaked, but as dry as her throat and mouth. 

Janai was coming back now, or someone was. Someone angry. Kazi’s hands guided her own up, in turn guiding a heavy, cool cup up to her mouth. 

This water was heaven. It was the only thing Amaya felt she ever had or ever would need in her life. She could not drink it fast enough. Wasteful as it was, she did not even shy from letting it splash her face and overflow down her chin. She wanted to swim in fresh, cool water. Then it was gone. 

Janai refilled it for her, but Kazi pressed  _ slow down  _ into her hand as she took a second long drink. She did her best to nod and obey. The last thing she wanted was to drive her body to nausea and lose any of this much needed gift.

She thanked them when she finished the second long draught, and felt like she finally had her breath back.

_ Food? _ Kazi spelled, and Amaya shook her head, placing a hand on her stomach. Best not to overdo it. Kazi continued.  _ We need to check your eyes. _

Amaya nodded.  _ Medic? _

_ She is here. _ More footsteps. How long had this medic been standing there? Amaya was tired of not being able to see. 

A hand found her shoulder and Amaya let herself lay down on her back. Despite this being the third time, she still had to fight to control her breathing. If she had heard one week ago that she would be here, laying down, vulnerable, unarmed and out of armor, as three elves saw to her health, she would have laughed. It did not feel like a laughing matter now.

The medic - or someone - removed her blindfold, but her eyes still would not open. Whatever salve the elves had put on them had dried and crusted them closed. Amaya flinched as gentle hands massaged the tender area, the dried medicine now cracking and rubbing off like ash. She braced herself, as the medic prepared to open her eyes again. 

The moment took a long time coming, as it became clear that the elves around her were talking about something. Amaya could not know what. She hoped she should not be worried for the future of her eyesight. Three days the medic had said. Perhaps that had been optimistic. 

Suddenly, the room changed. Amaya felt a shocked gasp escape her lips. What was that? The floor was still. She had grown so accustomed she had forgotten the constant background vibration in it, but now all that was gone. More than that though - cool air wafted over her, as if someone had opened a door to the outside. It felt amazing. What was going on?

The medic’s hands were at her face again, and Amaya scrabbled a moment for purchase, for any solid grasp on the world. Her hand found metal, and then a four-fingered hand found her own. Whose it was she did not know, but she gripped it tight. 

As Amaya’s eyes were forced open for the first time in two days, several things assaulted her senses all at once. The first was pain; dizzying and insistent. The second was miraculous; light. The doctor held her right eye open and resisted her as she tried to blink. 

The light was not blinding, but it was there. Like looking out at a moonlit night through fogged glass. She could see no shapes or faces yet, but it was much more than nothing.

_ Can you see?  _ Kazi pressed words into her free left hand. Which meant it was Janai gripping tight on her right. Amaya was useless now to formulate a response, but hoped her shocked face and rapid breathing did enough. It was too much. She fought to close her dry eye again. 

The medic released her, and Amaya’s right eye snapped shut. The process was repeated on the left. This time Amaya really tried to look and see. There was light, white and grey and brown, and movement. Little else yet. The medic released her again. 

_ Open _ . Kazi translated for her. Amaya did her best to obey. It was slow, and difficult. After the brief shock, her body wanted nothing more than to retreat into its cozy oblivion. But she mastered them, in the end. At first it was just a crack of light, and Amaya remembered how it felt to stare into the Light in the Sun Queen’s court, to not look away. She commanded her eyes remain open, soak in all they could, and slowly, they obeyed. 

Hands were on her face again, and Amaya flinched and blinked as some sort of eye drop was applied. Whether magic or mere medicine, it helped, and Amaya realized again how dry her eyes had been. She looked around. There were shapes now, dark and golden. She gripped Janai’s hand harder and took deep breaths, in and out. For so much of her life, the sight of dark and golden elves had set her on high alert. Now seeing them - seeing anything - threatened to overwhelm her.

The medic helpfully applied another drop in each eye, as Amaya’s world continued to clarify. She was expecting it to be brighter in here. Or perhaps that was just her still healing eyes. Unless - she turned her head this way and that, looking around, and the medic let her.

The fire was gone. That’s what the cool air had been. The ring of fire which was her cell had vanished. 

Movement caught her eye and Amaya looked back. One of the elves - Kazi, it must be - was moving. Were they waving their hand? Amaya waved back, still on the ground. Kazi moved again, and Amaya guessed that it was the sign for vision, but details were hard now. She signed back.  _ Only a little.  _ Kazi nodded. But even this little brought an unstoppable smile to Amaya’s face. She could see!

Instead of signing, Kazi mimed putting on a blindfold, and then took her hand again.  _ Keep your eyes covered. They are still healing.  _ They were obviously still translating for the medic. Amaya nodded, but paid little heed. As painful and as rudimentary as it was, she could not help but revel in her vision, and try to see all she could. That dark blotch must be the medic, and that light shape must be the stairs. Her head ached, but it did not stop her.

Janai’s hand found her shoulder, then, as the medic backed away, and helped her to sit up. Amaya felt a new blindfold put into her hands, but did not put it on immediately. She saw Janai - that dark shape with gold on top must have been Janai - turn to the medic. The two were clearly talking, but Amaya’s vision was nowhere close to being able to read lips. She turned toward Kazi and asked a simple  _ what? _

_ Janai says to leave the fire off _ . Kazi spelled into her hand. That would be wonderful. After two days living in an oven, Amaya was enjoying even the briefest respite. The two elves, even Amaya could tell, had more to say than this. From the light of the stairway, more shapes appeared. She guessed and guessed correctly that the prison guards had come to see why their ring of fire had been extinguished.

It did not take keen vision or hearing to tell that this had become an argument. It was a rather one-sided argument, with the guard’s weak objections falling short against the authority of the Golden Knight of Lux Aurea. But it was a heated one nonetheless - literally, if the glow around her defender was no illusion. Kazi, bless them, relayed none of it. And for once Amaya was grateful, as she was not sure she could still process both light and words. Instead the interpreter helped to tie her blindfold back in place, now no longer a prison for blind eyes but a respite from the oppressive light around her, dim as it was.

Amaya was not sure what might have happened if her first sight had been of the towering flames by which she had for the last two days been surrounded. But she was thankful for their absence now. The metal floor was beginning to cool down. She did not think that her skin bore any actual burns - the elves hopefully would have noticed if it had. But it might as well have.

_ I will get you food _ . Kazi’s hand was in hers again, and Amaya signed her thanks. It was peaceful here, in the quiet and the dark. She was not sure what became of Janai or of the guards. 

Eventually, Kazi came back, and Amaya felt a hand on her shoulder. She tilted her head up, although she could not see, and lifted her hands to receive whatever the elf would hand her.

A four fingered hand found her own, pressing hesitant letters into her palm:  _ My apologies _ .

It was Janai.  _ It’s ok _ , Amaya fingerspelled back. But it was not, and they both knew that.

_ They mistreated you _ . Janai was still clearly concerned about the mark on Amaya’s face. The human general wondered how bad it looked.

_ I’ve had much worse _ , Amaya assured. She pointed out the scar on her right cheek then, which must have been in the center of the bruise.  _ Fire Titan _ , she said.

It did not occur to Amaya until after she said it that boasting of such a battle might not be the best way to stay in Janai’s good grace. Perhaps the Sunfire elves were allied to such great Xadian… beings. She was not really sure if a Titan was an animal, or a person, or something else all together. She had never really considered it before. Did the monster they killed to steal it’s heart have a sister too? Or a spouse?

In any case, Janai’s reaction was unclear, so Amaya signed again.  _ Thank you  _ she spelled, and then signed.  _ For turning the fire off _ . She did not think that Janai would remember these signs - for ‘fire’ and the rest, but the repetitive motion of teaching signs brought her back some sense of… she was not sure what. Comradery? Normalcy? Something between them.

_ I told them,  _ Janai responded,  _ of your oath _ .

Amaya nodded.  _ They did not believe you?  _ She asked, and then before waiting for the response corrected:  _ They did not believe me.  _

_ No matter.  _ Janai told her.  _ They will obey. _ It was then that Kazi really did return, and supplied Amaya with food. It was the same vegetable soup as before, spicy, and alien. But it was good. She brought an additional pitcher of water, too.

Now with an interpreter between them there was less fingerspelling, save for what Kazi pressed into her hand. They spoke for a time, about Xadia and Katolis. Amaya asked what was in the soup, and about its ingredients, about plants she had never heard of - and about other, stranger ones which she could not bring herself to believe. She smiled, then, and laughed, in her way.

_ I will believe the singing flowers, but you are making the other ones up. _

_ Fart flowers are unfortunately very real _ .

_ In Katolis, flowers smell nice. No wonder you elves always wanted to come over. _

As she said it, Amaya knew that she was touching a nerve. It was a joke that would have been welcome in her own camp, with her own men: Men who lived in fear that the Xadian elves were always at their doorstep, who were in need of a lighter mood. Now, though, with all that she had learned of the sunfire elves and Lux Aurea, the joke fell flat. There was no invasion planned.

It was Janai who answered. In such conversations, Kazi always signed the letter  _ “J” _ first to indicate who was speaking:  _ No, that was just to see you.  _

Amaya hoped very much that she was not blushing. Quick, she had to think of a witty retort. She had to keep the banter going, instead of freezing like a deer before its doom.

Instead, her hands decided to surprise her.  _ How long did you know about the outpost? _

Shit. That was not the subject they were supposed to be on. But Janai’s answer was immediate, falling into the martial discussion without question:  _ Three weeks. _

Amaya nodded, lost in her thoughts, and Janai continued:  _ How long did you have it? _

Amaya stopped now, and swallowed hard. Here was her interrogation after all. But it was hardly a betrayal of her King or kingdom to discuss what was already in the past.  _ Over a year _ , Amaya claimed. Worried, she freed her hand from Kazi’s and brought it up to her face, pushing the blindfold up so she could see.

Janai was little more than a golden streaked elf-shaped blur in the dark, but now she could look the elf in the eyes, at least. She strained to see any sign or body language. The elf nodded, she thought. A long moment lasted between them before Janai spoke again.

_ Why did you destroy the breach? _ Amaya still relied on Kazi’s fingerspelled translations, and it took her time to respond.

_ To protect Katolis.  _ It was the expected and appropriate answer.

_ From me? _

_ From Xadia. _

_ Why now? Because of the outpost? _

Amaya bit her lip, and took her time.  _ It gave you… we gave you a foothold, more of a foothold, on the breach. We were sure you would push forward soon. _

_ Across the border? You feared invasion. _

Amaya merely nodded. It felt foolish now.

_ Our King was…  _ The words were already past her fingers before she realised they might be unwise, or unsafe.  _ The elves had already sent assassins. _

Even with darkened eyes, Amaya could see the reaction this caused.  _ What? _

Amaya’s brow knit.  _ Moonshadow elves.  _ She decided to keep at least a few cards close to her chest.  _ Their attempt was… not entirely successful.  _ It was not a lie, but not a whole truth. The elves had failed to kill Ezran, after all.

The elves looked at each other a moment, and Amaya did her best to see their faces, but in vain.

_ Did you not know? _

_ The Dragon Queen _ . It was not Janai, but Kazi who spoke this time.  _ It must have been in retaliation. For Avizandum _ .

Who? Amaya did not get to ask. Kazi relayed both their own suggestion and Janai’s response before Amaya could make her own:  _ The Dragon Queen does not want war _ , the elven Knight insisted.

_Neither does Katolis_ Amaya signed firmly. Both of the elves looked at her now. Although she still could not read their faces, their doubt entered into her own mind. Did Katolis not want war with Xadia? Surely King Ezra did not, but did Katolis? What evidence had they shown of it in the past? Multiple invasions into Xadian lands, a secret outpost on the Xadian side of the breach, rampant hatred and distrust of the elves, and King Harrow’s most dreadful achievement; killing the great dragon Thunder. Perhaps that is what Kazi had meant, about the Dragon Queen’s retaliation. Didn’t Katolis want a war with Xadia, as much as they dreaded it? Didn’t even she, when Sarai had died?

She blinked and made to rub at her eyes, but Janai stopped her. Catching her wrists, she shook her head, and pulled Amaya’s blindfold back down.

_ Your eyes need rest _ . Amaya was not sure if it was Kazi or Janai speaking now.  _ Tomorrow we will speak more.  _ Amaya nodded, resigned. Janai continued.  _ I will leave the ring of fire down tonight. I trust that you will remain. _

Amaya nodded again, firmly this time. Janai was risking much by trusting her: her reputation, and possibly even her life. Amaya still did not really know why.  _ Thank you _ , she added.  _ Goodnight. _

_ Goodnight, Amaya.  _ As she stood, Janai rested a hand on Amaya’s shoulder by way of parting, then walked with Kazi out of the cell.

As her solitude sank back in, Amaya could not help but think of how easy it would be, even now, to walk out after them. Her vision was coming back, now, and the first obstacle to her release was gone. There were guards, but she would surprise them. She did not know her way through Lux Aurea, but at night it would be more abandoned. By the time she was on her way west, she would likely be able to see again. And yet… Then what?

Amaya had no intention to break the oath which she had sworn. And yet even in her make-believe tactical practice, she could not think of what would come next. Even if she made it to the border, she would need to find a new way to cross. And even if she somehow crossed the river of molten rock, then what? She would return to Katolis, return to Ezran, the King. She would tell them that Xadia was not preparing for war. Ezran would understand, of course, what she meant: that Xadia might negotiate for peace. That they were not a threat. That the stories about them all being monsters were untrue. Bless the boy, even after his own father was killed by moonshadow elves, Ezran would believe the best of them.

It was the rest of the court which Amaya was worried about. They would hear ‘not preparing for war’ as ‘vulnerable to attack’. And something in Amaya told her now that she would never truly be able to cross swords in combat with Janai again. She would never be able to lead an attack on the elves in Lux Aurea, or even again at the breach. They could not go back to the way things had been. But perhaps that was for the best.

Would they call her a deserter? Or worse, a traitor? Elf-sympathiser. It wasn’t a word she had heard in many years. It was more than just sympathy, though, it was… Amaya did not have a word for what it was. An opening of eyes. A kinship, even. Perhaps this was all in her head - there was a name for this, for feeling indebted to your captors. But if Janai was willing to trust Amaya - for what reason the human General did not know - then she would not, could not let her down.

Long ago, Amaya’s mother had told her that she ought to love her enemies. She had heard Sarai say the same. The two spoke with such conviction, but Amaya never really believed it. One ought to respect one’s enemies, sure enough. And one ought to show mercy to captives. But love was something else entirely. Love was wanting what was best for someone. That’s what Sarai had said, too. Love was not the same as affection, it was not a feeling, it was a sacrifice. It was putting someone else’s good before your own.

Perhaps that was what Janai was doing, too.

Well, if staying prisoner in a cell with no bars was what was best for Janai, Amaya would do it. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make. If that meant that she loved her, so be it. Maybe all of Sarai’s talk had meant something after all.

‘Love your enemies’. It was unfortunate that Amaya had never learned the true meaning of the phrase before her sister died. At least Sarai had managed to pass the lesson on to Ezran, who had learned it so young, and so well, and even to Callum, despite Amaya’s own poisoning his mind with stories of monstrous, blood-thirsty elves. Now here she was, finally catching up to the rest of her family.

With this warm thought, Amaya settled down for a blessedly cool night. Even so far from her family’s embrace, it had been a long time since she had felt so loved.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo is ready for more Janaya? I am, that's who. Thank you all for your patience! Know that I am already working on Chapter 6, and that this fic will continue for some time if I can make it. Hopefully this chapter written after a long break lives up to the rest of the fic.

Amaya opened her eyes. The world was dark and blurry. She reached up and moved the blindfold up to her brow. The world was still fairly dark and fairly blurry. But it was a good sight better than the night before. Moonlight streamed in from the high doorway, making the room glow a dull blue-white. This room was beautiful, when the ring of fire was turned off.

It was also cold. Very cold; a wonderful contrast to her last morning in prison, but it may have actually been too cold. Amaya was surprised to find herself shivering. Is that what had woken her up? This floor was freezing. She pushed herself to her feet and rubbed her arms. Who would have known she would need a coat or a blanket in Lux Aurea? She took a chilly breath, in and out, and was somewhat startled to see it float away in a white cloud before her. It was strange, but she was going to have to get used to seeing again.

She was still dressed, as she had been dressed for many days now, in the thin linen tunic and trousers she wore under her armor. It was light clothing suited for patrolling the breach. And it was doing absolutely nothing to keep her warm. At least she still had her leather boots, a better barrier between her and the floor. Why on earth did this room have a metal floor? It was intricately designed, and beautiful. Perhaps it was to discourage tunnelling out. Was she underground? It seemed that regaining her sight brought few answers to her many questions.

She needed to warm up. Time to get some exercise. Although it was the middle of the night, Amaya resumed her workout routine. She stretched only briefly, because the floor was cold, and jogged a lap around the room. She figured that, ring of fire or no, the elven guards would probably frown on her using the stairs, even just for cardio. At first, running only made her colder, but she soon began to warm up. And, as when she was blind, it gave her room to think.

There was one question plaguing her mind, both now and in her sleep. Perhaps that is why she had awoken at this godsforsaken hour. What now? Where did one go from here? She was a prisoner, but apparently not under a death sentence. Would there be negotiations? Was there still a chance of war? She hadn’t stopped worrying about young Ezran, and about Gren and the others. After her conversation with Kazi and Janai, Amaya now had Xadian politics to worry about too. Just because ‘the light’ or whatever magic power the Sunfire elves trusted in seemed to approve of her - or that is what she had gleaned from Janai - that did not mean that this great Dragon Queen might not also want her dead. Especially if she really had sent those Moonshadow elves after Harrow. Did they know that she was the new King’s aunt? Would it matter?

None of this solved the problem at hand: What next? She had promised Janai three days, and those three days were quickly coming to an end. Should she attempt an escape, or wait and see what the elves would do? The idea of trying to manipulate Kazi and Janai seemed odd, and distant now. She could simply run. But then, if she were caught… She was certain she would not be given a second chance.

What had that light been, anyway? What kind of test was it, to look into a blinding light, and how had she passed? Was being rendered blind passing? What other option was there? Perhaps the light could have killed her flat out. She should ask.

The more frustrated Amaya became, the harder she ran. And the harder she ran, the warmer she got. But morning felt no closer. At last she slowed and stopped, hands on her knees, breathing hard. She ought to save her strength. Maybe she could draw Janai into sparring again, now that she could see. Although the dim moonlight did little to test her, she could feel that her vision had fully returned, or close to it. These elves really were miracle workers.

As she sat back on the cold floor, Amaya realised her mistake. A layer of sweat - one enough to soak into her clothes in places - was not going to make this night any warmer. But dawn would come soon. She could sleep until then, even in the cold.

Dawn did not come nearly as soon as she expected, and Amaya slept fitfully, her consciousness fading in and out. When she finally did awake fully however it was with a start. Something was touching her. Something warm. She opened her eyes and blinked as sunlight greeted her. It was dim, with most of the room still in shadow, but she could see her hands before her as she lay curled up on the floor, and the small cloud of her breath.

It took a long moment to process, and while she blinked the warm hand touching her moved away. She kicked her stiff body into action as blessed warmth briefly touched her cheek. At last she saw its source: Janai. Oh, good. Janai was here. She had ceased to wonder in the strange comfort this brought. 

As Amaya looked up the warm hand retreated again. Janai was above her, crouched by her side, looking worried. Her lips moved, and Amaya blinked a few more times, her weary brow knitting with the effort. It was too early and her eyes too freshly healed for this. She made a motion for Janai to repeat herself, and the elf did.

“Are you ill?” She asked, seeming frightened “You’re so cold.”

Amaya’s brow only furrowed further, and she shook her head, sitting up and rubbing her hands over her arms. It was somewhat warmer than the middle of the night, but it was still hard to believe that this room ever got this cold, even underground.  _ I’m fine,  _ she signed.

Janai looked at her, frustrated, and reached out a hand again. She drew back almost immediately upon contact with Amaya’s hand. Amaya laughed briefly, a sharp jerk of air that made her miss whatever Janai said next. She rubbed her hands together and supposed for the first time that sunfire elves never really got cold.

_ Does that fire have any lower settings?  _ Amaya asked, looking idly around the room where the glowing flames were notably still absent. She couldn’t say she actually missed the ring of fire closing her in but it might help. This time Janai did not seem to read what she had said, but before Amaya could sigh and switch back to fingerspelling, Janai stood. 

“I’ll go get Kazi.”

Amaya shook her head, and Janai was stayed.

A wicked smile found its way to Amaya’s face as she signed her response.  _ I know a better way to warm up.  _

She was hoping it would make Janai blush, because - and this may have been the lack of sleep talking - that would be adorable. Instead the elf’s brow knit, and she tilted her head a bit to the side as she parsed Amaya’s signs. This, too, it turned out, was adorable.

Amaya pressed herself laboriously to her feet, bounced once while stretching her arms and neck, and immediately fell into a fighting stance. 

She did not need to sign to communicate her request. 

“You want a rematch?” Amaya was satisfied to see an amused grin come to Janai’s face at the realization. She nodded. “You just… no matter.” Janai began to protest but stopped and shook her head, “you humans never do give up.” With this she made to remove her sword belt. Amaya smiled and rolled her shoulders.

They still were not on exactly equal footing, but it was a sight more fair than their last encounter.

Fistfights were different than using sword and shield. You had to be careful. Especially because this wasn’t to the death. In many ways, it was easier to fight all-out than to spar. But Amaya was nothing if not disciplined and controlled.

The human general took a wide, balanced stance, one hand near her waist and the other held out at eye height; both a guard and invitation. Janai stood firm, affixed in the middle of the room, her hands low but ready, and waited. It was clear that Amaya would need to make the first move. At first, she beckoned the elf on, but Janai shook her head, amused, and refused to take her bait. 

So be it. Amaya started with a quick jab, open hand, more a tap to the shoulder than anything else. Janai was quick to bat her away, but gave no ground. Amaya tried again. It was not often that she was the more aggressive opponent in a fight. With her heavy armor and shield she could take plenty of action, but preferred to let enemies rush at her shield wall, giving her time to find their weaknesses and turn their strength and speed against them. Which was, at the moment, exactly what Janai was doing.

It took two more annoying jabs until Janai was finally coaxed into a response. She caught Amaya’s left hand by the wrist as it came towards her shoulder. Contact made, Amaya immediately returned with a wide right hook. This too, however, Janai caught, and did not let go.

Locked now with their hands together, Janai made her first move; using her height as advantage, she took a long step forward, forcing Amaya to retreat. But before she could free herself Janai reversed their momentum and ducked down, pulling Amaya forward with her right arm even as she released her left.

Before she knew it Amaya was off the ground, laying across Janai’s shoulders for a moment as the elf hefted her with ease. With practiced skill she spun and threw the general to the ground at her feet, never once releasing her right arm.

Even as the wind was knocked from her lungs, Amaya was quick to retaliate. She twisted and kicked, knocking Janai to one knee, and pulled her down enough to scramble herself onto the elf’s back. Janai sent a swift elbow, but Amaya was ready and dodged. Her right hand finally free, she tucked both arms under those of her opponent and brought her hands back around the elf’s neck, binding her fingers tight, but found as she did that she had once again lost her feet. 

Janai stood up as if the extra weight was nothing, reaching back to try and grab Amaya by the shoulders. If the human had been wearing armor it might have been effective, and would have left her flying upside down through the air. As it was, she found no purchase. Hanging now like a backpack, Amaya tested her luck by moving one hand up to leverage against the back of Janai’s horns and see if she could force her down.

Chest pressed to Janai’s back, Amaya could feel the enraged shout rumble through her opponent, but it wasn’t enough to prepare her for the counter attack. Janai took three swift and disorienting steps backwards and Amaya felt herself slammed into the chamber wall. It was the first time she had been out of the ring of fire, even since it had been turned off.

The force was enough to shake Amaya off, but she landed on her feet. Finally disengaged, Janai brought them both back to the center of the room, taking deep breaths as Amaya pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“You are sure your eyes have healed?” Amaya had to focus to read what Janai said. She was about to belay her concerns when an arrogant smirk came to the elf’s lips. “Because you fight like you are still blind.”

Amaya’s eyes narrowed at the taunt, but responded only by resuming her guard; her right hand raised this time to eye height and her left at the ready. She was determined not to strike first this time, and beckoned Janai closer. They would see who was blind now.

Janai wasted no time with jabs or tests. At once she pushed Amaya’s guard hands aside, pulled her close and came to seize the general by the back of the neck. Instead of ducking out of the hold and bringing her face far too close to Janai’s knees, Amaya straightened and landed a strong downward blow on the outside of Janai’s forearm where the elf gripped her neck. It was not enough to dislodge her, but was the perfect angle to force the elf down.

Before she could turn any leverage to throw the elf however Janai sensed the danger and retreated, withdrawing her hold and taking a step back. With a hand on the elf’s left shoulder Amaya followed at once, closing the distance between them even more, and tried to reach a hand to her opponent’s face. If she could force Janai’s jaw she could topple the elf in any direction she chose. Janai was quick though, and tall. Amaya’s strike went wide and Janai found immediate advantage; forcing Amaya’s arm she twisted the general around and pulled back. 

Amaya realized the trap just soon enough to regain proper footing. She braced herself as Janai tried to knock her down and rolled her shoulder to deflect the force. When this didn’t work, Janai reached round, pinning her left arm to her chest and trapping her in a bear hug from behind.

It felt like the elf might have said something, but Amaya neither knew nor cared. She focused on her footwork; leaning forward she forced Janai to once again hold her weight while she slipped her right foot behind Janai’s left, with her knee positioned behind the elf’s thigh. All she had to do now was stand up.

Amaya’s free arm came up, finally making contact and forcing Janai back by the throat, pivoting her down over the fulcrum of Amaya’s knee. She hit the ground hard, forced to release her grip, and Amaya was quick to follow through.

The human general was on her knees now, straddling her opponent about the chest. Their hands caught together, and it was a battle of sheer force to bring Janai’s hands down, aiming to trap them under her knees.

Janai bucked her hips up hard, throwing all of her weight into knocking Amaya off, but the General would not be moved. She rocked forward, pinning Janai’s hands briefly over her head and avoiding the blow, and back again as Janai attempted to twist herself back to her hands and knees. Janai tried again, forcing their still locked hands up and trying to push Amaya to where she could strike with her knees, but it was no use.

It was then that Amaya found a true advantage over the elves: having five fingers made it easier to overpower four, and Janai’s grip was the first to fail. Twisting her wrist down, Amaya at last came to rest, leaning the weight of both her own arm and Janai’s against the sunfire elf’s throat.

Throughout their struggle on the ground, Amaya had never once looked away from the face of the woman she held pinned, waiting for any words or sign of surrender, or any sign that the elf’s fiery magic was about to be put on display.

For a moment they both stilled, testing if this was the end, and Amaya finally caught Janai’s eyes with her own. She gave one firm and determined shake of her head, advising the elf not to try anything more, and minutely increased the pressure on her throat. Janai grit her teeth, tested a moment longer, and nodded at last, looking away.

Amaya gave a small smile and released her at once, but made no immediate move to let her up.

_ Not blind _ . She signed and spelled.  _ Just deaf. _

Janai rolled her eyes as Amaya gloated, and the human general at last allowed herself to be shoved to the side. She stood, and offered Janai a hand up off the ground, which the elf accepted.

“Well,” she commented, “at least your hands are no longer deathly cold.”

Amaya gave a small chuckle, but could sense from Janai’s expression that the elf did not actually take her defeat as lightly as her joke made her seem. Her face was grave as she dusted herself off, retrieved her sword belt, and fastened it back into place. Amaya offered her a curious expression, and Janai seemed to read well enough.

“I came because your three days are up.” Janai answered. “No oath binds you here.”

Oh. Amaya had all but forgotten. She glanced up to where sunlight streamed in from the high door.

_ What now?  _ She signed; a motion now so familiar that she no longer needed to rely on an interpreter or spell it out.

Janai had to think a moment before responding. “You are still a prisoner of the Sunfire Queen.” Amaya nodded. “But she has yet to offer any real sentence. Never before has a human come into Xadia and yet passed the trial of the light.”

Amaya’s brow knit. She still did not know what that meant. But she did not interrupt.

“Today I will petition the Queen for another hearing. She has refused to discuss the matter with me in… “Janai hesitated, “serious terms.” Whatever that meant, Amaya was unaware. “If the Queen permits your presence again, you must-” Amaya’s eyes narrowed, and Janai stopped herself again. “If you value your life, you should not insult her again.”

Ah. Yes. Spitting on the queen might have been a step too far. Still, Amaya grimaced a bit at the thought of being civil or gods forbid submissive towards the demeaning woman who so clearly hated all humans and wanted her dead.

Amaya shrugged, as if it could not be helped, and Janai fixed her with another serious glare. The elf reached out and Amaya let her once again take hold of her chin and turn her face to the side.

“How is this?” she clearly meant the bruise her captive had suffered at the hands of one of her guards. 

_ It’s better than it looks _ . Amaya signed, although she was not sure Janai followed, and had no clue how the mark actually looked. Even without being able to hear the elf’s tone, Janai’s intonation was clear: she would suffer far more than a backhanded slap if she continued to disrespect the Queen.

Janai released her, and looked up to the door as if someone above had called her name.

“I will send Kazi later with food,” she said shortly, and made to leave.

Amaya stopped her, stepping between her and the stairs. She spelled out her message this time to make sure she was understood.

_ Aren’t you going to turn on the flame? _

Janai stopped, brow furrowed and eyes focused as she worked to understand the question. “Oh,” was her initial response. She looked at Amaya a moment, weighing her options.

The fact that she hesitated at all, Amaya thought, spoke volumes.

“Yes, I suppose I should.” Janai crossed the room to the controls, and Amaya stepped back into the center of the space.

_ It’s alright _ . She signed. She could use some warmth after the night’s cold. Janai turned a dial, and the room was once more light in a warm yellow glow, and Amaya once more trapped in a tall circle of flame. Perhaps it was merely the contrast, but Amaya felt sure that the wall was in fact less hot than it had been. Amaya took a much more comfortable seat than she had the last time she had been able to see the flames. She watched as Janai made her way up the stairs, and wondered about what had just occurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this sequence was clear. If anyone is interested, the fighting style which Janai and Amaya here use is based on a real medieval style of grappling (Italian, set out by the Master Fiore dei Liberi, specifically in his Arte dell'Abrazare ~1400-1409AD, Mainly using his zagho ix and vii). Because punching is both painful and boring. Thanks again for all comments and kudos!


End file.
